


Straight To Gay In 30 Days

by KellicOnMyGravestone



Category: Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: M/M, Seduction, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:07:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4660848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellicOnMyGravestone/pseuds/KellicOnMyGravestone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vic's mothers are satanists who do not approve of his straightness. To "fix" this problem, they send him to a gay camp, where he will learn how to be "pure". Purely gay, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A/N This is based around my preferred religion (that I don't practice), atheistic Satanism. They believe that everyone is their own God, and there is no religious figure. Essentially, they believe that people are all internally evil and selfish. They don't discriminate against anything, really, because to each their own. But for the purpose of this story, we're going to pretend that they shun heterosexuality. Also, to clear any confusion, everyone around Vic are mostly homophobic fuckboiis, not Satanists, much like the real world (until he goes to camp, that is). *bows* Thank you for your time.

I had done it. I had finally managed to sneak behind my parents' back and bring a girl home. A hot one, may I add. 

This straight stuff wasn't allowed. It was completely against my religion. I did it all the time, though, just like the average party bro. And I simply couldn't help myself tonight. She was just so sexy in that party dress. I couldn't wait to get her out of it.

"You didn't put on any perfume, right?"

"Ah, nope. They'll never know I was here," she replied. If my moms were to catch a lingering scent, my cover would be blown.

"Put your hair up. Don't want any strays to fall out," I whispered, taking every single precaution possible. I didn't know why I was whispering. Nobody was home.

She quickly brushed her hair behind her ears instead. "Fuck me," she whined, ignoring my suggestion. I brushed it off, knowing that a minuscule hair wouldn't get us caught. She grabbed me by the sides of my face and merged her lips with mine.

I hummed in understanding, violently kissing back and grabbing her hips, ready to push her onto my bed. Maybe I was a bit drunk from that party, maybe not. I felt a sense of rebellion either way.

This chick was unbelievably hot. I had just met her today, but my bro had bet me twenty bucks that I couldn't bang her. Her parents were home, so I took a risk by bringing her to my place.

Jaime owed me some stacks.

-

Fifteen minutes later, I was buried deep inside of her and completely out of my element. I didn't know what was going on until it was too late.

A loud gasp was heard from the doorway. The voice was meek and strained with pain. "Victor Vincent Fuentes, what is going on here?"

I abruptly turned my head to find my birth mother in tears. Oh no, not this.

"I can't believe this," my mom started, covering her face with both of her hands.

My face went red in embarrassment, and so did Danielle's, who was struggling to get out from under me. "Oh my god," I heard a different voice say as I let Danielle get her clothes from the floor. My other mom came up behind the doorway, dropping whatever bags she had been holding in her hands.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out, terrified, as I tried desperately to cover up my dick with a nearby pillow.

"The meeting got cancelled," my birth mom barely whispered. She was in tears.

I glanced behind me to make sure Danielle was okay, not wanting to make eye contact with my emotionally destroyed parents. She had already slipped the dress back on and was moving as quickly as possible to gather her things. I stared blankly at the floor as I reached for my own boxers and slid them on, peripherally watching her rush out. Before leaving, she discreetly whispered in my ear, "Good luck," and patted my back.

"Don't you touch my son, fucking hetero," my non-birth mother, Mami, seethed at her as she walked by. Danielle held her hands up in surrender and kept walking until I ultimately heard the front door slam with haste. I never even blew my load, either. To make it worse, I was probably never going to see her again.

Nevertheless, I needed to reason with my parents before their sadness turned to anger. I knew Mami was already mad, so she was a lost cause by now. I turned to Mom instead and stepped forward as I spoke. "Look, it's not as bad as it seems-"

"Not as bad?!" she shouted. Well, there went the chances of me reasoning with either of them. "This is an abomination, child! We do not do this," she said, getting up in my face and jabbing at my chest with a finger. Her voice went quieter. "I don't want you doing anything that relates you to those horrible christians. I knew sending you to public school was a bad idea," she stopped and turned to Mami, "I fucking knew it would be a bad idea, and it was all yours." She got louder, but not enough to be considered yelling.

She was framing her. Hey, it wasn't Mami's fault I didn't want to be a fag. Guys were there to bro with and hang, not be the protagonists of some gross romance story. The people at school didn't influence me, they just shared my "get money, fuck bitches" lifestyle. I stepped closer to Mom and held my hands out. "Look, if you'd just calm dow-"

"No, Victor!" she yelled in my face after turning to me. Her anger subsided a bit, though, when she met my eyes. "We didn't raise you to act like that, and you know it," she sighed. Mami came up behind her and held her shoulders in support. Mom let out a deep breath, seemingly forgetting about her idea to frame Mami.

"You can't do that, okay?" Mami told me, massaging Mom's shoulders. "We've already talked about this. It's nothing new. Just..." she looked down at her hands, taking a deep breath, "Get in bed and relieve the stresses if you need to. We'll continue this discussion tomorrow."

I watched as Mami guided an emotionally wrecked Mom out of my room. She shut the door behind her, leaving me to rot in my own embarrassment. I knew what she had meant by "relieve the stresses", and I wasn't opposed to it considering the dull ache in my lower region.

I couldn't bring myself to jerk off, though. My thoughts were too jumbled to focus on a fantasy. All I could think of was how disappointed they had looked. No one ever wants to see their parent in tears, let alone both of them at the same time. I felt bad for them, I really did, but I wasn't going to listen just because of that.

Lesbians were alright, like my parents, but gays were straight up gross. I liked the ladies, and so did my bros. Nothing was going to change that.

-

I woke up to the sound of my door being violently swung open.

"Wake up, Viccy! We're going on a vacation!"

I grumbled, pulling the blankets further over my head. Too early. I didn't know what was going on and I was too tired to care.

"Stop that, silly," Mom's voice chirped before her heels were suddenly clicking along my hardwood floor and rushing to my bed.

Something was off. I reluctantly pushed away the tired feeling and came out from under the covers. Mom patted my bare calf and smiled.

"There you go, sweetie pie," she said in a sweet voice. "Start packing. Make sure you get everything, because we're going to be gone for a long, long time."

This was really weird. Why was she acting nice again? Weren't we supposed to talk about last night like Mami had said? "Are you okay?" I asked, my eyebrows creased. Something wasn't right here.

"Oh, I'm fine as wine, dear!" she stated exuberantly. "I'm going to make some breakfast for your Mami, be down in ten minutes, okay?"

I nodded hesitantly. Okay, now I knew something was wrong. She turned to leave and I got up to find a suitcase. When she reached the doorway, though, I found myself questioning this much more than before. "Wait."

She turned back to me, an odd smile etched onto her face. "Yes, darling?"

I almost cringed. She was being really weird. Almost creepily weird. "Uh, what about school and the guys? And where are we even going?" I asked, pulling some pants on over my boxers.

She cringed at the phrase "the guys", but grinned nonetheless. "Don't worry about school, Viccy. It's a surprise."

And then she walked out the door, slamming it behind her.


	2. Duuuude

The atmosphere in the car felt awkward and rushed. It was very odd, considering that my moms and I usually had a comical, comfortable relationship; nothing like this. I had no idea what was going on. They were acting so distant right now, making this "vacation" sound too good to be true. 

"Mami?" 

She didn't reply. 

"Where are we going? How long is this gonna take?"

No answer. 

I began to feel suspicious now. The road we had taken was anything but new. I recognized the familiar landscape and forestry of the city. It didn't look like the path to any vacation destination whatsoever. 

I asked a few more questions but they all went unanswered, so I just gave up on it. I hesitantly rested my head against the window and watched as blurs of green whisked by. It was an ironically sunny day out. The weather paled in comparison to the dark vibe in this vehicle. 

I was still slightly embarrassed from yesterday, but I also thought my parents were being stupid. Everyone was straight. It shouldn't have been a surprise to find out that I wasn't gay. I mean, who wants a dick in their ass, am I right? All the years of them telling me, "be gay, be gay, be gay," really had no effect on me. I had always tuned out on their opinions because they were ultimately wrong.

"There it is," Mom whispered blankly to Mami, inconspicuously pointing to the left. 

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering why they were being so secretive. Maybe they wanted to surprise me?

The car turned to the left and we pulled into a long, long driveway. As we continued cascading down the paved path, I noticed how suspiciously endless it seemed to be. The driver and passenger remained silent while I was left to wither in my own confusion. 

Nothing surrounded the road. Only grass, empty space, and a few trees. It wasn't until a full minute later that I began to see signs of civilization.

A tall, church-like building came into view as we proceeded beyond an open gate. I recognized it immediately: another branch of The Church Of Satan. 

Today wasn't worship day, though, leaving me confused. This wasn't our normal building, either. It was all black with a large pentagram under the tip of the roof's triangle, as usual, but something seemed different. 

I tried once again to ask what was going on, but to no avail. The atmosphere in the car was eerily quiet as we began to drive around the pentagonal structure and into a small parking lot. Before I knew it, the engine was being shut off and the silence became even more apparent. My moms gave each other an inclusive look, making me wonder what kind of "vacation" this really was. 

"Out," said Mami. "Get your suitcase." She avoided all eye contact, instead calmly exiting the vehicle and shutting the door in a creepily careful manner. Mom followed, mimicking her actions. 

I obeyed, hesitantly pulling on the handle and opening the door, proceeding to get out. After I had grabbed my luggage from the trunk, undoubtedly confused, the two made their way over to me and grabbed onto each of my hands as if I were a child. The handle-loop on the suitcase rested around my wrist, being dragged along as we walked. 

"What are you doing?" I asked, confused. I tried to pull my hands away but ultimately failed. "Oh, come on," I sighed. Was this some kind of joke? "I'm a perfectly grown-up teenager, guys. I don't need help crossing the parking lot," I assured them, trying to make healthy conversation for once. I even added in a chuckle for good measure, but neither of them laughed or even smiled. Their grips didn't falter as they started walking around the building with me, hand in hand.

Okay, this was really getting weird now. 

We reached the front door and Mami pushed the large wooden fortress open. Behind it, I saw an all-black room with flecks of red here and there. The door closed behind us and my parents gripped my hands even tighter. 

"You can let go, we're inside now," I suggested, pulling back more roughly this time. Neither let go. 

A desk sat in front of us. There was a middle-aged, balding man sitting behind it, sifting through papers with the occasional "click" of a computer mouse. 

He looked up to see us approaching as I struggled to break free from my mothers' grasp. I felt like a baby right now and it was really embarrassing. 

"Hello there, and welcome to Eastboro. How can I help you two lovely ladies?" he asked, failing to acknowledge my presence. The whole line sounded scripted, which just added to the creepy aura. 

I had heard of Eastboro before. From my knowledge, it was simply a month long program in which a teen is able to renew their loyalty to Satanism. Upon this realization, I concluded that I didn't really mind. I loved my religion: everything but the gay aspects. Maybe by "vacation" they had meant a religious journey? I had no idea. 

Mami and the receptionist exchanged a curt conversation, inaudible to me. The man nodded and looked to the open office door behind him. "Frank!" he shouted into the room. 

Soon enough, a man with black hair walked out expectantly. He gave me a disapproving gaze, then broke it, turning to the side. The receptionist quickly whispered something in his ear before handing him a key. 

I wanted to ask questions, but this guy was kind of intimidating so I refrained. Besides, now I knew why I was here. My parents wanted me to submit further into my faith, which they probably thought would lead me into believing that I was supposed to be "gay". Psh, yeah right. 

Nevertheless, I went along with it. I also knew why they were grabbing my hands so tightly. They thought I was going to try and run. I knew I wouldn't, though. If anything, this retreat was just what I needed. It wasn't as exciting as a real vacation, no, but it was a reason to miss a month of school. Plus, my phone was in my suitcase, so I could still talk to my bros if I needed to.

I just didn't understand why they never told me where I was going. If they would've told me that I'd be left without them in a Satanic church with my faith, I wouldn't have objected. They were being all creepy for nothing. All of a sudden, they released my hands and Frank was already standing in front of me. 

"Come with me," he ordered, forcibly grabbing my wrists and pinning them behind my back. Okay, that was a bit drastic.

"You don't have to do that, man. I'm not gonna run away," I assured him. I didn't struggle, though, because I didn't know this man and I had no idea what he was capable of. 

He tensed up at my voice, gripping my wrists even tighter as he began to walk with me. The luggage was still weighing my arm down, making it a bit more painful. "Don't you fucking call me 'man'," he seethed, mocking me. 

I took a deep breath and widened my eyes. This guy seriously needed to take his meds or something. I looked behind me at my parents, but they had left in a heartbeat. Well, so much for goodbye. I couldn't believe that they'd leave me here, supposedly oblivious to what was happening. I mentally brushed it off, knowing that they'd get over it. They were still really pissed about catching me in a non-gay act, but they'd have to accept me at some point. 

Frank proceeded to guide me to an elevator, where he pressed the "close" button and set us off. 

"Come on, bro. Just let go of the wrists. I couldn't run away if I wanted to now," I stated, trying to loosen him up a little.

It did the complete opposite of that. Everything happened so fast, way too fast to comprehend. He released my arms, like I had asked, but he didn't stop there. I winced in pain as his palm collided roughly with the side of my face. 

"What the fuck, dude?!" I yelled in anger and surprise. I caressed my cheek, checking the pain level. It wasn't that bad. The element of surprise did more damage than the actual hit. 

He poked violently at my chest. "Don't you dare use those straight terms with me. I am a proud gay man who will not hesitate to punish straight assholes like you. Don't say another word to me unless I tell you to."

About a minute later, the elevator door opened and we went back to being silent. Well, damn. I didn't know fags could be so violent. I guess you learn something new every day. 

I wanted to deservedly punch him in the throat, but I noticed people walking by so I refrained from causing a scene. 

The people coming by all gave me dirty looks as they passed. Some contained sympathy, others disgust. I didn't know why they were acting like that. Maybe they had heard the conversation between me and Frank? Though, surely, not every Satanist was gay, right? Someone had to be on my side. 

Frank brought me down the hall by grabbing onto my arm. He probably enjoyed it too, the disgusting homo. I tried to yank it away as we approached a room, but he was strong enough to maintain his grip throughout the entire walk. 

We now stood in front of a locked, red door. The walls were all black, as usual. Frank avoided all eye contact as he produced a key and used it for its regular function. He turned the silver handle, opening the door, and pushed me and my luggage forcibly into the room. I could've sworn I heard him mutter, "I hate this job," before closing the door and walking away. 

I took in my surroundings with haste. This must've been my assigned room. How my moms were able to secure me a spot in a refuge camp overnight, I had no idea. 

A bunk bed sat in the far corner of the room, next to a curtained window with a heating vent below it. 

"Hey, man."

I jumped at the sound. I turned to the left and spotted a tall, tattooed guy with short hair who looked to be about my age. He was sitting on the bottom bunk, folding clothes. 

He cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows. He then "tsk"ed in realization. "Sorry to scare you, bro," he chuckled, getting up to greet me. 

When he reached me, he gave my hand a slap and pulled me in for a guy-hug, roughly patting my back. I returned it, instantly becoming more comfortable before he pulled away. I could immediately tell that he definitely wasn't gay. 

"I'm Austin. Just got here today," he stated, walking back over to the bunk and continuing to fold in a bend-position. 

"Vic. Me too," I replied, pulling my suitcase over to the bunk bed and unzipping it. "I guess I'll be taking the top bunk?" I sighed.

"Yeah, sorry man. First come, first serve, am I right?" he chuckled, opening a drawer under the mattress and putting a folded shirt into it.

I pushed a laugh out to match his casual demeanor. "So, uh, how'd you end up here?" I asked after a few minutes, trying to make conversation as I began to throw my clothes up to the top bunk. He seemed like a cool dude. 

He looked up at me and smirked. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had invisible sunglasses on. That's just how cool he was. "Called my dads faggots because they wouldn't let me bang this hot chick. You?"

Damn. "Ah, caught in the act yesterday." 

"Wow. Kudos to you, brother."

"Thanks, man," I replied, climbing up the ladder to get to my bed. Once I was up there, I decided to get things cleared up. I organized for a few minutes before I began to question things. "Uh, one more thing." Austin hummed from his bunk, urging me to continue. "What exactly are we supposed to do here? I mean, I know you just got here but do you have any idea?"

"Didn't they tell you where you were going?" he questioned confusedly. I heard the bed ruffling. 

I took in a breath, wondering if I was actually supposed to know. "Nah, man."

He took a few seconds before replying. "Dude," he laughed. "This is a gay camp."


	3. Trainer

(A/N Don't worry, Vic tops. Kellin's the tiny bean in this one, not Vic.)

I tried to escape that night while Austin was asleep. It was a no brainier, considering the situation. But to my dismay, the windows didn't open. The elevator didn't have an "open" button from this side either; only a keyhole. Based on this, I assumed it was a one-way elevator unless you had a special key, which, in this case, I didn't. 

It was nearing sunrise and I was getting back into bed. Austin, still asleep, surprisingly hadn't been woken up by the commotion. Due to this, he seemed to have gotten a good night's sleep. I, on the other hand, could barely sleep at all knowing that I was stuck in a building full of preying gay dudes who drooled over the thought of putting a dick in my ass. It made me cringe. 

At about 7:00 AM, there was a banging on the door and then footsteps. They soon became distant as knocks on the other rooms were simultaneously heard. I instinctively hid under the covers, afraid that they'd bring in some macho guy to ram my asshole. I knew it probably wouldn't happen (at least not yet) but I wasn't taking any chances. 

"Dammit," I heard Austin gasp immediately after a distinct bang.

I slightly peeked down at the floor, the blanket still cocooning me. There he was, panting and laying in defeat on the hardwood floor. He noticed my gaze and I spoke up. "What happened?"  
I asked cautiously. 

He sighed and sat up, trying to gather his covers and throw them back onto the bed. "Scared the shit out of me. Not my fault," he defended, clearly embarrassed.

The funny mishap almost made me forget where I was. I would've forgotten, too, if it weren't for the keyhole turning in the door. I gasped and retreated at the sound, instantly cowering beneath the plentiful fabric of my blanket. Austin started to say something but I shushed him. Please don't let them take me. My asshole isn't ready. 

The door cracked open and I flinched. My first instinct was to be invisible. I tried to hold my breath and lay completely flat, not making a sound as I heard the steps of rubber boots on hardwood flooring approaching. 

My plan failed, though. Abruptly, the blankets were pulled off of my body with a swift swoosh. I unintentionally curled up into a safety ball. My eyes immediately searched for the person who was responsible for this. Peeking over the edge of the bunk bed, I was able to spot the culprit. He didn't look very amused. 

Frank gave me an unimpressed roll of his eyes and motioned towards both me and Austin. "Get dressed. It's orientation time."

-

He had brought us to a miniature chapel-like scenery. Only, this was a branch of the Satanic church chain, which meant it was all black and red rather than white and gold. 

Austin sat beside me in the nearly-crowded room. Not that there were a lot of people; it was just a very small version of a Satanic chapel. There were maybe ten other teenagers sitting in a rectangular chair formation, some female and some male. And believe me, the girls in here looked anything but gay. 

Frank stood idly beside another man up front. There were plenty of Satanic statues, figures, and objects placed neatly around them, whereas Frank posed as the bodyguard in the center of the holy circle. The side facing the crowd displayed an opening wide enough for a congregation ceremony to take place. "All rise."

I looked over at Austin as I stood. He held a blank expression, probably not very happy about what was supposedly about to unfold. I felt like he somehow knew what was going to happen here, as if he had done it before, but I didn't think too much of it. 

Instead, I turned my head back to the stage. It was then that more teenagers suddenly began to appear onstage behind the circle in a straight line: a quantity equal to the amount of people in the crowd. They were dressed just like us. They had a similar demeanor. Yet, something seemed utterly different. I mentally dismissed the thought at the sound of a booming voice. "Number one. Come up."

Coincidentally, Austin had been given a lanyard with a printed number one upon our arrival. He picked his head up in surprise at the voice. He pointed at his chest in disbelief and mouthed, "Me?"

The man on stage nodded blankly and beckoned with his finger. Austin looked afraid now. I watched him push himself off of the chair, the eyes of everyone in the room now glued to his every move. The room was silent as distinct footsteps echoed up until he had finally reached the top of the steps, entering the circle.  

The man guided his arms to a hanging rope attached to a bell. Austin responded by obediently grasping the rough material and yanking it. The sound was eerily distinct, the bell interrupting the room's silence. I knew what this was. A common ritual. This was the practice I had experienced during my baptism years prior. 

Austin seemed to know exactly what came next. Nevertheless, the man guided him once again. He led Austin's palm to a piece of holy cloth. The pentagram was displayed boldly, its size similar to a hand. That aspect came in handy as Austin's hand rested atop it for a full five seconds before moving on.

The man led him to the back of the stage. Austin became face to face with one of the teenagers, the first in the line. I noticed that he, too, wore a "number one" lanyard. The man left Austin to stand in front of the teen for a few seconds while the man reached out to a side table. 

Something sparked in Austin's eyes. He held contact with the teen, visually taking him in. I didn't know what it was, but they both looked really surprised to see each other. Maybe it was just the way the light hit them, but that's what I caught from it. 

The man returned to them, a holy cup in hand. A chalice. He used his forefinger and thumb to turn Austin's face to his. 

"Repeat after me," he ordered. Austin nodded, somewhat quickly. The man continued. "Let us open the gates of Hell. Let us be forgiven for our selfishness, our godly instincts, and our naivety. And at last, let us be free of social norms and free of future overpopulation. Amen." He took a sip from the chalice. 

Austin repeated the phrase, locking eyes with the other teenager. The man handed Austin the chalice and he cautiously accepted it, taking a careful sip from it. 

The man took back the chalice and grabbed the teens' hands, forcing their fingers to thread together. "Alan will be your trainer. He will give you a tour of the premises. May Satan be with you," he stated calmly, handing them off to Frank who proceeded to lead them offstage and out of the room. 

It was then that I realized what was going to happen next. Frank came back onstage shortly, which queued the next call. 

"Number two. Come up."

My heart banged against my ribcage as I got out of my chair and stood. I nervously stepped forward, afraid of what they would make me do. Trainer? Was that some fucked up term for rapist? Because I definitely was not going to allow some stranger to ram me. Not even for my religion. Thinking about that made me nervous for Austin, too. He was stuck out there with some fag, who knew what could happen? 

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, I proceeded to enact in the ritual. The man's nametag, which I could see clearly now, read "Mr. Gerard Way". What, was he a teacher too? That was beside the point, though, so I ignored it. I knew I'd find out sooner or later. 

I worked my way through it slowly and took my sweet time. I knew what was coming next and I wasn't eager whatsoever. A few times during the ritual, I tried to catch a glimpse of who my "trainer" would be, just to assess the damage, but that damn statue was blocking the view the whole time. 

It wasn't long before Gerard was leading me behind the statue. I took a deep breath, disgust hiding behind my nervous expression. I was about to meet the macho guy whose dick would soon make my ass bleed. Great.

As the statue receded from my line of sight, however, my spirits began to feel a teensy bit less crushed. I saw him and, surprisingly, didn't find him as intimidating as I had thought. Gerard gently pulled me to face this boy, my eyes locking with the teenager's. He wore a "number two" lanyard, the same as me. 

His skin was very pale, much paler than the tanned tone I had pictured in my head. He was also very skinny. Not too frail, but definitely not muscular. He sort of looked like the white version of me in terms of body structure, but a tiny bit smaller. His hair's length was also similar to mine, long and black with red highlights. The hair color choice was perfect for a devout Satanist. 

His blue eyes held something intriguing as he smirked at me. I made a face of disgust. His smirk dropped. Yeah, that's more like it, homo. I had to admit, he was a good-looking guy, but unfortunately not enough to make me want him in my ass. Although, I noticed that the drop of his smirk only led to him licking his lips and looking down at my body. Ew.

"Repeat after me," Gerard ordered. He said the pledge and held the cup out to me. 

I reluctantly recited the phrases, avoiding eye contact with Dr. Gay over here. I suddenly remembered Austin's orientation after taking a sip from the chalice. My stomach dropped. I didn't want to hold hands with that... thing. 

Gerard took the chalice from me after I had sipped it and he reached down to grab our hands. I flinched and yanked my hand away, not wanting any of this. I looked up at Gerard's expression and fear shot through my body. You didn't want to mess with the high authorities in a Satanic chapel. "Excuse me?" he asked calmly through his teeth. 

I gripped my hand against my stomach but he wasn't having it. He yanked it from me and smacked it against the boy's hand. He was acting a lot like violent Frank right now. I cringed at the feeling of the boy's disgustingly soft skin. I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that I'd have to accept the hand-holding, at least for now.

"Do not disobey your superiors," Gerard seethed, squeezing my hand. Not enough for it to be painful, but enough to pose as a threat. Finally, he let go of our hands, leaving me on my own with the teenager's sweaty palms. 

The boy gently squeezed my hand, urging me to look up. He then smiled suggestively while stroking my skin with his soft and gentle thumb, making shivers run down my spine. I didn't return the smile. This was not a happy situation, it was disgusting.

Gerard proceeded to finish my orientation. "Kellin will be your trainer. He will give you a tour of the premises. May Satan be with you," he stated, handing us over to Frank. 

Once we had stepped off of the stage and were heading towards the doors, I could hear Gerard call up number three as Frank held the door open. Kellin stopped him. "I've got it from here, Frank," Kellin winked, referring him back to the stage. 

Oh, Hell no.


End file.
